Seasons
by ctt
Summary: (AU) Fate and the divine law demanded that he take her as mate. But the laws of mortals and the ephemeral mists of politics forbid it. For their alliance would tip the scales of power and signal the beginning of a long, bloody civil war.
1. Prologue

**Summary:**

(AU) He loved her. He wanted her, needed her. Fate and the divine law demanded that he take her as mate. But the laws of mortals and the ephemeral mists of politics forbid it. For their alliance would tip the scales of power and signal the beginning of a long, bloody civil war.

* * *

**Seasons**

**Part I: Seasons of Loss**

**Prologue**

_Year of the Dragon_

_What can I say in my defense? Nothing._

_ I have failed. I have shamed my ancestors. The proud lineage of the dogs who swore their lives to Jimmu Tennou himself have failed. Rebellion now springs the lands, and the emperor, powerless and trapped within his citadel. The lords are now split into two camps while others have shunned this madness and lay hidden in their own lands. They are but traitors and cowards. But whether they be a traitor, a coward or an ally, I know that the blame rests in mine and mine alone. Is it not I who walked the same path as my ancestor, Ichiro, and my foolish brother, InuYasha? Both men loved a divine priestess of Ise. Ichiro, the first Lord of the Western Lands, loved Midoriko, consort of the Emperor. It was a madness that led to the first rebellion of the priest, Onigumo, and his ally, Ryukotsusei, and led to the creation of the accursed jewel, the Shikon-no-tama. InuYasha took Kikyo, High Priestess of Ise, as his mate which led to the madness of Naraku and the loss of the Yasakani-no-magatama which purified the accursed Shikon-no-tama. _

_But even if these men where fools, I am even more foolish.__ Ichiro though he loved Midoriko and she loved him as well, sought to simply remain the closest of friends. InuYasha, no matter how foolish, had little responsibilities to the Western Lands except to be the elite knight to serve the divine Emperor. But this Sesshomaru, Lord of the Western Lands, have but taken the heir to the Eastern lands and the divine Priestess of Ise as his given mate. It is madness. I was not as strong as my ancestor as to have stepped away. I, who had the responsibilities as a Royal lord and Minister of the Left to the Emperor, have upset millennia of political balance. _

_We are now suffering for it. The rebellion has been building due to my folly. Though Kaede, the High Priestess of Atsuta, tells me it is no ones fault but fate. I did not choose the Lady Kagome Higurashi knowingly. That day was the ceremony of Kamo, when the elite imperial knights found the ladies that was to be their partners, their Havens who would protect them. She was swatted in layers of cloths and incense that would have dulled all senses except the longings of the spirit and the stirrings of fate. My soul and fate has brought her to me as the soul to my blade, the sheath to my sword; I, who was the elite knight who served the Emperor. The divine law called that she was to be called mate, Haven to my restless warrior's spirit._

_I refuse to believe this! I am not subject to anyone's whims but my own. Fate has no hold on me. I should have fought this. Am I not the taiyoukai? Am I not Inu-no-taisho? Am I not descended from the god of storms, Susanowo, brother of Amaterasu? Am I not descended from __Ohonamuji who suffered much torment, but who persevered and created the final islands of the Land of the Five Kingdoms? Am I not from these lineages that blessed these lands?_

_But I was weak, a flawed creature who cannot let a woman go nor fight fate. Even she demands that I let her go. But I cannot. So I stay silent as I watch her calm blaze into fury sending silk scattering throughout the room. I can do nothing but stay silent and trap her more and more among locks and guards. _

_This has not stopped her from trying to reason with me. But her hope for a quick end to this brewing war is all for naught. Winter is ending and spring is about to begin. Arms are already being raised. Once the snow melts into rain, the battle will begin. This I know, as I watch her every night in her uneasy sleep, for it maybe my last to see her so, bathed in the moonlight like an ephemeral mist. I can only hope for victory to expunge me of my shame. _

_Sesshoumaru, Inu-no-taisho_

_Lord of the Western Lands_

_Minister of the Left to the divine Emperor, Amaterasu VII_

_

* * *

_

**Notes:**

_Amaterasu_ – goddess of the sun, rules the celestial lands

_Susanowo_ – god of storms, brother of Amaterasu

_Ohonamuji_ – descendant of Susanowo, who won the hand of Princess Yakami of Inaba. The trials of Ohonamuji were many with him dying twice at the hands of his jealous brothers. Each time he would be saved by his mother Kusanda-hime. Pursued by his enemies, he ventured to Susanowo's realm where he was tested several times. In the end, the crafty god approved of him and foretold his victory against his brothers. The Izumo tradition claims Ohonamuji, along with a dwarf god called Sukunabiko, would finish the creation of the islands of Japan.

_Jimmu__ Tennou_ – 1st emperor of Japan, said to be descended from Amaterasu

_Yasakani-no-magatama_ – Imperial beads chain / necklace, one of the 3 Japanese Imperial regalia said to be given by Amaterasu to her grandson, Ninigi-no-mikoto; symbolizes benevolence. In the story, the shikon-no-tama is also part of the necklace as its pendant.

_Shrine of Ise_ – principle shrine of Japan which is dedicated to the sun goddess, Amatarasu; it houses the two Imperial regalia, the necklace and the mirror, though the mirror is associated more with the shrine.

_Shrine of Atsuta_ – shrine that contains the third regalia, the sword.

_Kamo_ – (historically, two shrines that are presided over by a virgin of high rank as the protectress of the capital, the festival for it is the greatest Shinto celebration). In the story, it is the ceremony wherein the elite Imperial knight chooses a lady to become his 'partner' as he performs his duties to the Emperor. A simple ceremony that takes place in the kamo shrine wherein the prospective Havens are wrapped in concealing robes and veils, while incense is burned to prevent the youkai or holy men from using their supernatural senses or exceedingly sharp senses. The partnerless / unbonded knight would walk past the rows of concealed maidens and when he felt drawn to one of the maidens, he would stop and take the girl's hand. Since it is difficult to become an elite knight or be considered a Haven, the ceremony only happens when there is a prospective Haven and an unbonded knight. There was one time that the ceremony of Kamo did not happen for 50 years. All heirs to the five kingdoms and the important shrines are required to become the elite Imperial knights. Also, when a youkai knight chooses his partner or Haven (as in Sesshomaru's case), she is to become his mate.

_Haven_ – (historically, honorary title given to a consort or concubine who has given the Emperor or Heir Apparent a child). In the story, it is the title of the ladies who are the 'partners' of the elite Imperial knights. They essentially act as support in a number of ways depending on the abilities of the female, but more often than not the abilities as mainly defensive such as shielding or even giving energy through the bond during a battle.

_Land of the five kingdoms _– (fiction: the empire that the story is set in) Named because the land is divided into 5 kingdoms, 2 of which are ruled by pure-youkai lords, 2 of which are ruled by the descendants of the gods who intermarried with humans, and 1 of which is ruled by the descendant of a god who married into a youkai lord's family.

* * *

**Author's notes: **

**Date 1st uploaded: **March 11, 2005

**2nd version: **March 31, 2005

I hope the change clarifies things a bit more, more will be revealed in the next chapter.

Once again, thank you all.


	2. Chapter 1

Hello. I edited the prologue a bit so please read it first to avoid confusion. It's not much, but a bit more detail was added.

Many thanks to all those who reviewed, it really inspired me. Special thanks to Leunra, who pointed out the confusion about how Kagome became Sesshoumaru's mate.

Well, on with the story…

* * *

**Part I: Season of Loss**

**Summer**

_Flickering lights_

_Of fireflies_

_Forebode their short lives._

___Meimetsu no_

___Izure kanashiki_

___Hotaru kana_

_____ - Kawabata Bousha_

**Chapter I**

_7 months ago_

He rarely dreamed; that was something Sesshoumaru was certain of. It was this certainty that haunted his mind when he found himself rolling in the inky darkness of his dream, a strange tone that lay so heavily that even his eyes and ears could see and hear nothing.

He found it curious that he was dreaming now after many years. It was 50 years ago when he last dreamt. He dreamt of scarlet that day; the day his younger half-brother was sent out with his Haven to return the two imperial treasures. He remembered the lurid quality of the color, its mottled shade, the sound of cawing ravens, and the metallic stench of blood.

Yet his dream now after so long was vastly different. It was cold in its stillness. It was silent, even and dark, not like before. Before the dream came as a premonition as vivid as the reality it portrayed. Now it came from nothing, and in its nothingness bloomed a myriad of fears.

She had appeared in front of him, a jarring picture in the darkness. Her image burned in his mind, the way she looked amidst the darkness that seemed to want to swallow her whole. She sat there, legs folded and weighted down by her upright body, fragile, her form encased with layers upon layers of silken robes that seemed to weigh her down and trap her.

_The weight of blood,'_ he thought, noting the blood red of the last robe that seemed to choke and meld with the dark. He thought it familiar, the way it seemed to blaze brightly against her alabaster skin like a flame in the snow. He then realized that it was the same hue that shone beneath the silver of his half-brother's hair. It was the same mottled scarlet in his dreams that had forewarned the tragedy of his kin.

Her back met him before her face turned ever so slightly to reach his startled eyes. The cold chill of fear raced through his spine, something he loathed to admit even to himself. But it could not be helped. The tragedy had struck the empire bringing wave upon wave of the sick, the dead and the dying, and here she was robed in this self-same color with her eyes radiating grief and death. It was so unlike her. Lady Kagome's blue-gray orbs had always shined with a passion, a passion for her duty and for the people in the land. At that moment, he wanted to rush to her, to feel the delicate bones underneath his hands as demanded answers. He wanted to feel the cool silk beneath his fingertips as she replied in the same guarded tone, her voice lilting precisely against his ears. He wanted because he wished to be comforted as well, knowing she was the same as ever and this dream-vision was a lie.

But like the nightmare it was, he could not move. An invisible and immovable force rooted him on the spot. No matter how much he strained, he could only simply stand and look into her dead eyes. Time swiftly flew, and he did not know for how long or cared. They were seemingly forever locked into each other's gaze when he suddenly felt the cold weight of a sword in his hand. His gaze slid down, filled with morbid curiosity. Numbly, he saw an elegant hand, slightly rough. It had delicately grasped the worn hilt of the sword; the leather beaten and unraveling. A lean wrist, smooth and unmarked, greeted him. It was not his own.

_'InuYasha? Tessaiga?'_

The sword flared to life. He dazedly noted how blood had spluttered in an orgy. The scent of irises against the rain, wind and other elusive things enveloped him against the thick coppery twang.

The blade was gone. His robes were fast becoming warm with the sticky liquid as his arms rose to encompass a form that lay on him. Dimming blue-gray orbs mocked him. His blood boiled. He wanted to let go of his vaunted control, to transform into his beast and destroy everything, but his dream-form refused. It had simply lain, forcing him to hold the delicate form in a limp, heavy embrace. It had done nothing as he watched those eyes melted into a dull dead-brown hue, their shape narrowing, and the face transforming, lengthening, into another familiar form. It had stayed, unmoving, until everything had faded into dust and he had paled into the darkness of his awakening.

* * *

Uncertainty. 

The word echoed at the confines of Sesshomaru's mind as he went about the monotonous task of dealing with the various political machinations that plagued the empire. It was the same thing over and over again, the empty flatteries, the barely concealed hunger, and the petty rivalries poorly hidden in a veneer of politeness, all of them gracing the thick white sheets. He hated these. The empty words have never appealed to him; and after centuries, they have all become worn and tired. Even the swift strokes, the graceful curves, and the elegant lines of black ink against dazzling white failed to detract him from its depravities. But he knew that as the Emperor's chief minister and as the second most powerful man in the land, it was his duty to know all the comings and goings, to dance this same dance and find all that wish harm.

Regret.

Normally, he would have completed his work efficiently, with a single-mindedness that would have put all to shame. But not today. He couldn't. The dream continued to haunt him. It mocked him with its familiarity, jeered at him in its contradictions. He could still remember the day he had woken up from the unsettling dream with the cries of the messenger ringing throughout the hallways. He had rushed to the sound, the horrible news that gripped the palace. InuYasha and Kikyo dead. The Yasakani-no-magatama with the Shikon-no-tama lost.

That permeated everywhere…

In the privacy of his mind, he blamed himself. He should have known that something was amiss when he began those dreams. He should have recalled InuYasha and Kikyo, or perhaps sent a company of knights to escort the pair. Instead, he did nothing. It was only through the presence of the monk, Ryuen, that the Yata-no-kagami was saved.

Now, dreams have been plaguing him once again. But unlike before, uncertainty filled him. No real signs have danger have appeared, only shadows. There is little he can do. His hands tied, for he himself is embroiled in all of this ambiguity.

There have been murmurs of an upcoming rebellion. The emperor's power is said to be at an end. Two royal lines who were descended from the gods are about to be joined. The religious say that it is fate's wrath against the line of Amaterasu, for failing to fulfill its duty to bring order to chaos. Others say that it was the line's zealousness, the world lives in the balance between yin and yang, to tip the scales means destruction. The cynical, on the other hand, say it is nothing more than a power struggle. The romantic say none.

But whatever it is, he knew he was to blame. He was the knight who had walked the past the row of maidens in the shrine of Kamo three years ago and upset the millenniums old balance.

* * *

It was something so simple. 

The smell of irises against the rain, wind and other elusive things.

The scent beckoned him. It had blazed, past the heavy weight of the incense. Had reached out past his dulled senses as they roiled and hissed underneath his skin, the ofudas containing them. He had stopped, eyes irresistibly drawn towards its source. A hooded figure draped in white met him. To the uninitiated, to the ignorant, the form was like the rest that lined the hall. But to him, the girl was different from the rest as night was to day.

He took a step forward, reached out to that tantalizing scent. His hand reached out, touching the smooth white silk. He was dimly aware of the whispers that dimmed then roared, cresting like a wave.

Reverently.

The pads of his fingers felt the shadowed contours of her face. The curve of her temples, the arch of her high cheekbone, the plump lips, and the delicate chin was all hidden by the thick veil.

Gently.

He ran his hands past the slender column of her neck, the slim shoulders towards the hands, all covered by heavy silk. He grasped her fingers, bringing the delicate digits in the cusp of his hands. He ran his claws over the fragile appendages, marveling at how it laid engulf underneath his palms.

He tugged her forward. Led her towards the dais where the Emperor observed. He could feel the shock and the slow giddiness of celebration engulf the lords. He had found a Haven, his companion as the elite knight to the emperor, his soul-bonded mate that would inevitably bear him an heir. For years, his inability to find a Haven had been a cause of concern. He was the last of his line that held the reigns of the government through the hereditary claim to the position of minister of the left. He was the right hand man of the Emperor, the second most powerful man in the land. It was his presence that kept youkai lords in line, accepting of the power a human held over all of them. Should he die without an heir, there would be no youkai worthy to take his place. The land would most likely erupt in civil war, youkai against human, youkai against youkai, human against human, all under the different banners of belief.

A pleased curve and a merry twinkle from the man he served greeted him. He had made the usual motions of obeisance. Besides him, she mirrored his movements. It was a sign that showed her rank was equal to his. It was a warning against the premature celebration. Unfortunately, it was unseen in their relief.

He had been an overconfident fool. He had forgotten the past tragedy that had also begun in the ceremony. He believed that he could not be touched, marching in his own banner. When he had given up finding a mate, he plotted how to simply gain an heir. Now when he found a Haven, he simply took it in stride. He took her hand. He led her to sit besides him and had never let her go. Her hand had lain on his lap as he examined it. At that time, its fragility had been impressed in him. It had made him wonder how she could protect him in his duties when it seemed she needed protection. He arrogantly decided that he could protect her. When it was time of the unveiling, he stood in front of her with the confidence of the royal inu-youkai clan.

He remembered watching as the attendants slowly divested her of the outer robes. The dull white colors of death gave way to the brilliant scarlet of life. Her head was bowed down as he slowly tugged the veil. As all watched, he had set the first roll of the dice. The multitude of gauzy silk that layers her tumbled and fell. What greeted his eyes was the inky black hair of a human, and sapphire colored eyes. Those otherworldly orbs damned all. It was the color that defined the royal line of Higurashi. He had taken as his Haven the only child of the Minister of Right, Lord of the Eastern Lands. He had taken Kagome Higurashi as his mate, bringing together the two divine lines that have to remain separate, for they balanced and calmed the continued animosity between humans and youkai.

* * *

With a scowl, he slammed his palms flat on the table. The teacup rattled. The ink sloshed against the dark well. The sheets tottered and fell like the foamy waves crashing upon the sand. 

He watched the floor painted in white and black scrolls, his gaze touching the deluge to rest on a one. It was the same as the rest of the formal correspondences, done in thick michinokuni paper. But it was the handwriting that set it apart. The delicate sweeping strokes. The fine hand like an ethereal mist.

He knew it well. He had received letters from this hand for 3 years. Every month, it reached him with exceeding regularity. Tradition demanded it. A Haven should write to her knight in the years of her final training, away from him. So Lady Higurashi did. And in her usual form, she sent her letters in the white sheets made from the spindle tree instead of the thinner and finer colored papers that was used for personal correspondences between friends, lovers, mates and intendeds.

His claws raked through his hair, the letter reminding him of the mood within the capital. It was rife with tension. Lady Higurashi was at the last leg of her training.

He shut his eyes tightly, remembering something important.

"Jaken," he growled, sending his retainer stumbling in haste to meet his summons.

"See to the documents," he snapped, "I want them in order."

He rose haughtily, ignoring his servant's acquiescence. He stepped out of the room, sliding the door firmly to a close. It paid to be careful. Spies and loose-tongued courtiers abounded. To show no caution meant death in the razor sharp world of politics.

He passed through the great stone and wooden hallways of the palace, when he reached a fairly secluded spot in one of the gardens. He found himself looking at a pair of calm blue eyes that belonged to a man who sat languidly in a stone bench underneath the shade of a great tree lined with yellow flowers. A table, containing delicate cups and bowls, lightly condensed with cool water faced the man and another stone bench.

"Lord Shigeru," he greeted.

The man smiled, eyes crinkling in mirth.

"Lord Sesshoumaru," the seated man replied as he motioned at the empty seat. "Join me for a reprieve." A slight shake of a graying head. "The heat is so stifling."

He nodded. It was all an act to set any spies at ease, thinking it was all a coincidence, the meeting of the two royal lords. He could not help but approve. The Minister of the Right had chosen well. The place would hide them from prying eyes, yet was open enough that none would be able to surprise them with their presence.

Sesshoumaru stepped forward. A Faint sting of power washed over him. Sounds became muted. The colors sharper. The air hung in baited breath. He felt as if the two of them where cut of from the rest of the world.

"Forgive me," Lord Higurashi spoke, his once light-hearted demeanor weighted by so many cares. "I wanted to have straightforward conversation…but this was very sensitive."

Sesshoumaru's face remained unreadable. He calmly took a sip from his icy drink, the fruity taste cooling his parched throat.

"Let us be frank," the man continued. "We cannot delay this any longer." A sigh, then a fond smile, "I admire the shadow dance that both of you have been pulling for all these years, but my daughter is to turn 18 years of age by the coming year."

He felt a frown mar his brow as he listened to his fellow minister's words. He knew this already. Had spent months agonizing over this upcoming event that would throw everything in chaos. The shadow dance that he and Lord Shigeru's heir have been doing had only been a temporary measure. They have been following the traditions between a knight and his Haven, yet their actions have been under the veneer of official state protocol. It had broken neither laws and followed both, while keeping all concerned with the hopes of a union between the two and also breaking off of this said engagement. By keeping everyone's conflicting wishes up, they had delayed the inevitable disaster that should happen should either any of the course of action be taken.

He had to hand it to the girl for giving them this reprieve. At that time when he had unveiled her, he had been in too much of a shock to be able to think coherently. He could still remember his instincts calling her as his, while his mind reeled at the repercussions. And then when they were called to start the formal dance between the knight and his Haven, the only thing that rang through his mind was a sense of doom. But Kagome Higurashi had recovered admirably. Instead of simply waiting for him to lead her to a waltz, the dance used by couples and mates and the first dance a knight and his Haven were to dance together, she had positioned her form to an official court dance.

He could still remember her dazzling blue eyes staring straight at him as she took a step backward and raised both her hands to shoulder height. One arm was outstretched while the other was bent in front of her collarbone. It was the first step to the official dance of both the minister of the left and right at a formal, official and extremely important function.

It was a highly unexpected move. But by reducing the dance to a highly stylized and formal move that reminded everyone of their positions as the balance that maintained both camps, it raised an idea that they would remain as such and would not continue this joining. Yet it was still a dance, so it also retained that idea that they would not break divine law and would become mates.

And from then on, they continued this custom of following tradition and twisting it into an official function. The dance. The letters. It had given them time. A time to gauge. A time to plot. A time to do everything in their power to soften the curse it would bring. But they were now running out of time. She was nearly of age, an age to take her duties as haven and an age to marry.

The faint sound of a clearing throat broke his thoughts like a wave upon the sand. He looked at the man in front of him. His gaze had been figured into a polite curiosity as he watched the elder man lower the cup he held to the table.

"What have the youkai lords been saying?" Lord Shigeru asked, fingers dancing absently across the cold stone surface.

"My lands will not be a problem," he replied calmly.

A disbelieving look met his words. Suddenly piercing blue eyes bore through him, demanding that he elucidate. It was a trait the man who bore the title of Minister of the Right was famous for. Even he as Minister of the Left, a position higher than the man's, was never given immunity to its presence.

He steepled his fingers. He spoke, "My vassals are loyal. Most have pledged that they will not question my decision."

Silence. The air was heavy, still. It stuck to them like a second skin.

He sighed. "A few though, blatantly disapprove of the match. They fear history to repeat itself, but they are not foolish enough to rise up against me."

"You fail to mention the Southern and Northern Lands."

He took a glance at the elder minister, his lashes hiding the quicksilver light of his golden orbs. The man had not taken his eyes off him. He should have known better that nothing would get past the Minister of the Right, one of the few he had truly respected. Though their position was hereditary, Lord Shigeru did not gain the respect and awe he currently enjoyed by inheritance. The man gained it by his political astuteness, his brilliance, and his unwavering sense of justice and righteousness.

"The lords of both lands have remained silent," he replied. His fingers tightened their grip on one another. His knuckles rose prominently, bone-white against moonlit skin.

The crickets chirped in the heat of the sun.

He looked away. Watching as a withered leaf fluttered by in a slow hypnotic trance.

"Their vassals, on the other hand," he continued, "have been…split." He at last described, for a lack of a better term. His tongue tripped at the almost crude description.

His ears twitched at the sound of a deep breath. Lord Higurashi's fingers became drumming lightly against the hard stone surface of the able.

"My situation is the same," the man spoke.

"But unlike the youkai lands, the Eastern Lands do not have aristocrats," he reminded. A gray brow rose against a lined forehead as his words. "Your rule is absolute."

"Hardly," the elder minister chided lightly. The tone was dizzyingly familiar. It reminded him of his younger days of impromptu lessons from the man. He could almost see that same twinkle that characterized Lord Higurashi's voice. He steeled himself, pushing the memories away in favor of the man's words. "My lands are run in a bureaucratic system manned by scholars who passed the civil service exam," he heard the man speak.

"Without them," Lord Shigeru continued as he opened his arms out in a gesture of almost helplessness, "my rule, the government will collapse."

"But surely, your generals…"

"My generals are split," Lord Shigeru spoke, cutting him off. "Most of my ministers are against the marriage."

Sesshoumaru began to speak when his companion raised a hand to forestall him. To anyone, he would not have stood for the continued interruptions. But it was Lord Shigeru, his father's friend, his mentor, and a man he respected. So he allowed it.

The man continued, his words tumbling in a mass of weariness. "The religious sects, on the other hand, deem that the union should continue."

"Those sects have no say in you government."

A shake of the head greeted his statement. The movements were slow, tinged with stooping gravity. "They have a hold on the people," was the words that followed it. "And the sects have a strong presence in the Imperial government. Let's not forget the human ministers who also have a smattering presence as well."

He frowned. It was a nightmare. He felt his temples pound with some unseen force. The sound of the drumming of fingers against stone did not help the rhythmic pain in his skull.

"Perhaps we could hammer out an agreement like the Emperor Jimmu Tennou's and Lady Midoriko's?" he grated out, wanting to have an end to the madness.

The beat stopped. Fingers stood poised against the dark granite, unwaveringly still.

"Do you think it's that simple?"

"We can keep the lines separate," he riposted, bristling at the implied rebuke.

"But the High Priestess Midoriko was human," a shrug, "and in a fashion, so was Emperor Jimmu Tennou."

He watched the condensing liquid pooled on his cup and slipped down the stone surface to form a dark ring of water.

"But our families are both descended from the great gods," he replied. His claw reached, taking out a fragile bead of water from the thousands that covered his cup. "The Higurashi from Amaterasu and Tsukiyomi. My line from Susanowo and Tsukiyomi."

"Sesshoumaru!" Lord Shigeru thundered.

The droplet of water broke at his claws. Clear liquid ran in tiny rivulets.

"You are youkai. My daughter is human." Shigeru's voice rang in the canopy of trees. It echoed underneath the force of the spell. "Our families represent our different people. Even if we still keep the two positions separate, no one will believe you, my daughter, or both the children that you two have when they take the place as Minister of the Left and as Minister of the Right."

Furrowed brows greeted him.

"Blood is thicker than water," the Minister of the Right admonished gently.

He met the unwavering stare. His shoulders lifted into a shrug.

"Then we cancel the union," he replied, voice impassive.

"Impossible," his fellow minister replied, shoulders slumping in defeat.

He was surprised, a jolt running down his spine. He had never seen the man look so defeated. The stubborn man he had known to never give up an inch when all he held dear was concerned.

"Kagome has seen into the Yata-no-kagami," Shigeru continued.

"What has the mirror shown?"

"Famine," was the reply; the voice whispery in unspoken regret. "A disaster far worse than those 50 years ago. Even all our preparations will never be enough."

"Nothing then," he spoke softly.

"Ah."

Golden eyes flashed. Sesshoumaru's lips thinned. His eyes narrowed.

"I won't accept it!" he growled.

The still air shifted, curled and grew. The grass undulated. The drooping petals, exhausted by the merciless heat, shook and fell free. One by one, they fell, fluttering and dancing between them.

Laughter. Pure unfettered chuckles erupted from his companion. Sesshoumaru stopped, stunned.

It was a sight. A middle aged man in the forbidden color of purple surrounded by the swirling yellow petals.

"You are so like my daughter," Lord Shigeru gasped out. "Kagome vowed that she will never let a war or a famine happen."

He felt the tension seeped off his skin. His muscles loosened. The feeling of an almost kindred spirit in the girl he does not know yet have chosen as his companion.

His eyes closed. He was perhaps at peace for awhile.

"If things were different," a voice spoke, cutting through silence like a knife through butter.

His eyes snapped open, turning to watch his companion as the man's lips where turned into a faint sad smile. Sesshoumaru felt a sense of disorientation. Lord Shigeru's image seemed to blur and stretch. It was now not a lord, not even a minister, and certainly not a politician. It was that of a father.

"If it where different," Lord Shigeru began once more, "I would not have hesitated when you choose my daughter as you Haven."

Sky-colored eyes rose to meet his bright amber orbs.

"Would you have," Shigeru whispered, "married her?"

Sesshoumaru felt the feather light touch of his lashes. His lids close. He rose as his eyes gleamed in the afternoon rays.

"I would have done my duty," he replied.

The curve on the lips widened ever so slightly at his words.

"I'm glad."

He bowed. His hair swept down with him in a silky waterfall. He found himself speaking, revealing his gratitude in simple words of thanks. Dropping from his lips was a title he never willingly bestowed to any one. Sensei.

He straightened, turning to go when he heard Lord Higurashi's parting words.

"I only took an egotistical pup under my wing because I saw the man you were and were to become."

* * *

A sudden chill swept across the capital. All felt it, the sheer raw power that ran through everyone's skin. It was electrifying, maddening. It was too strong sending those sensitive enough crashing to the dust frothing and screaming. Even those who would never have felt anything shivered in fear. 

Sesshoumaru jerked up, his senses screaming at the onslaught. He gritted his teeth, nearly splintering bone at the force of his gnashing. His breath caught his throat. He knew this feeling, had felt it three years ago. It beckoned him, drove him reeling back to the past as he broke into a head run.

Echoes.

_The hushed whispers that followed him as the huge wooden doors boomed painfully behind him. The great hall echoed hollowly at his wake._

There were tens, hundreds of echoes against the white marble halls. The thumping of boots were erratic marches booming like thunder. Crashing of feet, like the pitter-patter of rain in a harsh storm.

And there was darkness.

_Incense, smoke curled around him, leaving his vision into a haze of gray. He moved past it parting it clinging nonexistence into the darkness of the pitiful glow of embers._

A slew of darkness from the dull armors and crimson plumes waving like flags of war. There were glimmer of gold and silver too and perhaps a flash of color then and there.

However, there was blood, so much blood.

_He saw nothing but a monotonous sheen of smoke, until a form stood clear in front of him._

An oozing trail burned brightly against light and dark. Its scent filled the air in a heady tumble.

Silence.

_The scent of irises against the rain, wind and other elusive things. It called him, bringing him to face a slight form, bent and bowed, covered and wrapped._

The scent hung in the air, the metallic stench of blood mingled with a scent of someone dear. The doors flung open with a bang, and men and women rushed inside with weapons drawn, half-baked plans furnished, and thousands of questions. The huge vaulted room opened in submission yet all stopped and stared, frozen with shock. Standing in the middle of the brightness was a frail figure of a girl drenched from head to toe with blood and gore.

"Kagome," Sesshoumaru murmured. He would have been appalled by the familiarity of his address even if it was at the privacy of his person. No matter how much his instincts declared her as mate, his soul as Haven; she was still no more than an acquaintance at best. But in her state, he could not care. She was in front of him, wounded, bleeding in fits and starts. He could see Lord Shigeru as well, the man's blue eyes tightly controlled by concern.

Their eyes met. Weariness. The weight of the things to come.

"What is the MEANING of this?" voices rang. They were barely above a whisper, yet it ran like adulated waves, causing the black armored figures to retreat to the shadows.

Kagome said nothing. Her flat gaze flickered towards the crowd in dismissal and returned once again to the seated figure, adorned in purple and gold.

"My Imperial Lord," she began in a voice, spasm and flat, and then fell silent.

Everyone waited with baited breath.

At last, her hands moved hands that were cupped together so one covered the other. They moved slowly as if fighting an unseen force, and as if she had no more strength to move them.

Bloody white hands parts, fingers moving as if caressing the finest of spider-weave and its silk. They revealed, nestled in her palm, a chain of beads and a huge sphere glowing with inner light like the fragments of rainbows. It tilted, tottered. Then fell down towards the ground.

"The Shikon-no-tama. The Yasakani-no-magatama," the Emperor spoke in awe and disbelief, as he half stood from his throne.

The jewel clinked against the floor. Then, there was an uproar.

Shrill tongues lashing across the silence. Booming voices echoing horrendously against the endless roof edged with confusion. Raspy words buzzing in a never ending stream. The whole erupting in a whirl of questions and demands, of endless yammering laced with fear.

Yet they were all lost to Sesshoumaru, to Shigeru, to the Emperor and to the girl. They watched the stone rolled on across the expanse of the room, forms standing ramrod straight, waiting in stillness.

Then, there was movement. The wind blew, and Emperor Amaterasu VII stepped down from his pinnacle.

One.

Shigeru closed his eyes, his hands meeting. They fisted between each other, hidden by his sleeves, dusty like the color of the deepening sunset.

Two.

Sesshoumaru took one hesitant foot forward. Then nothing, he could not turn his eyes away from her.

Three steps.

Kagome turned away. The white of her robes slowly being eaten by crimson.

The Emperor bent down. His hands reached out to enclose it in a seal of his fingers. With great reverence, he held it close as he rose. He cradled it in his hands, mouth opening, maybe in prayer. He cried out, "ENOUGH!"

The word cut through the mounting questions. It echoed like the thunder, deafening all who tried to resist. All turned to stare at their ruler. The force of his command could not be denied. Yet he, Sesshoumaru, could only see her. Her scent, her voice, the sight of her form ruined in a mix of scarlet and pain was sending his instincts snarling to be free just like those years ago. In his mind, her form blurred.

The red trail of blood as she walked away.

_The red carpet that showed him away, amidst the ruin of smoke._

Kagome's slight form. Her back bathed in the dull light of afternoon.

_His hands ran through the smooth silk of her robes. The softness of her form, the fragility._

She swayed.

_He had grasped her hand. Those delicate appendages._

He felt his body move.

_He saw crimson sleeves peeking out of the white sleeves. From death, we return to life as a sheath to the sword._

She tottered.

_The concealing veil and robes fell._

Reason screamed that he cannot act as her protector so rashly.

_The forbidden colors of scarlet._

Fell towards the puddle of her blood.

_Sapphire eyes, wide with shock stared at him. It engulfed her delicate face._

But he was beyond reason. The primitive demon within him called that he had to take care of her.

A fierce wind slammed into him. It carried no gentleness, yet it caused no harm. The icy cold air was like a slap at the cheek. It was a barrier that carried so much admonition.

Sesshoumaru stilled. There was the snap of a fan, and the wind followed. He stood ramrod straight, as if he was not rushing a second ago, yet a faint snarl could not help but escape past his lips. Clawed feminine hands cradled the unconscious form.

"My Royal Lord Sesshoumaru," the woman whispered, ruby red eyes flashing in warning.

"Lady Kagura," he murmured in return. His eyes were narrowed.

* * *

**Notes:**

_Yata-no-kagami _– one of the imperial regalia, a bronze mirror. It symbolizes wisdom. Kept in the shrine of Ise which is dedicated to Amaterasu. Historically, during the Heian period (I'm not sure if this practice is continued), the vestal of Ise watched over and interpreted the signs in the mirror. The girl, a virgin of noble birth, was chosen by the Emperor and ended her term when the Emperor died or abdicated. She lived in ritual purity and presided over the shrines which was said to determine the fortunes of the Emperor.

_michinokuni paper _– thick white paper made from the bark of the spindle tree. This was used for formal correspondences. In the Heian period, to receive this sort of letter from a lover was disheartening.

_Tsukiyomi_ – god of the moon, brother of Amaterasu, the sun goddess, and Susanowo, the god of storms and the great destroyer.

_Forbidden colors (kinjiki) _– shades of deep scarlet and purple that was barred to all but those of the highest rank, with rare exceptions.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Chapter I is done!

I hope I didn't bore you all with the explanations and the politics. It's a little longer than I thought, but I hope this is enough to wet your appetite. Thank you all. I hope it was to you expectations. Please tell me if your confused or there's anything awkward. Are the characters OOC? I would like to hear from you.Questions, comments, reviews, suggestions are very much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 2

I had a bit of a writer's block. Nothing major. The chapter was all planned out but the way I wrote just didn't fit. But the chapter's done and it seems to have passed out fine. Well, I hope…

By the way, just to clarify the confusion. The lines in italics are thoughts. So in last chapter when Sesshoumaru saw Kagome, the italics showed his memory of her in their meeting at the ceremony of Kamo. At that time, in Sesshoumaru's head the past and the present were all blending in.

* * *

** Chapter II**

**

* * *

**  
It was a veritable rush. Long queues of youkai lords and ministers with their entourage rode towards the capital. The roads drew plumes of dust brought about by the intense summer heat and the constant tread of horses and wagons. Inns dotting the roadways towards the heart of the empire were brimmed full in the crush. Such heady bustle towards the capital city, Heian-kyo, would have been frightening if not for the fact that such occurrence happened every year. The Taika legislature met at this time to review and draft laws, and to express the needs of their constituents. It was the normal business in the empire, but this normality had suddenly taken a perverse turn.

Rumor has it that the Emperor has called for the Conclave of Manjushri where the Council of Izumo and the Taika Legislature will meet as one body. Such a gathering would have only occurred during the death of the Emperor and the crowning of his successor. It is a highly unprecedented move. It reminded people of the events 50 years ago when the current ruler, Amaterasu VII, took the throne. As tradition dictated, the lords and ministers assembled for the transition between rulers. But what began as a simple tradition extended to a series of disasters that still resonated after the passing of half a century.

Old women still told the tale to the children, to whoever would listen and to those who has not heard as they sit by the fire or go about with their weaving. It is a tale, a legend, a conglomeration of truth, hearsay and rumor. It spoke of the love between the High Priestess of Ise and a royal youkai lord, and the jealously and betrayal of the lord's best friend. The man plotted with many others to kill the young lord in his journey. But the madness of his jealously led to the death of his beloved. The two men, grief stricken and mad with rage fought each other to death. The jewel was then lost and that the only thing the monk, Ryuen, could save was the mirror. The two men lay in unmarked graves of the rocky earth as the spirit of the Priestess wept for the two men whose friendship was torn asunder because of her. The earth wept as well with her causing immense floods that destroyed so many lives. After the tears were spent, she refused to rest. Even though she knew she was dead, she sat by their graves day in, day out. Held vigil until even her spirit crumbled into nothingness as the world released its wrath, covering the earth with dust, drought, famine and plague. People wailed as thousands of cities became rotting wastelands. Even the Emperor who was the God-be-with-us, could do nothing but hold death at bay. The earth could not be assuaged as it released its wrath on humans and youkai alike, mortal and divine, season after season. When the people felt the end was near, the land's wrath cooled and prosperity returned once again.

Nobody truly knew what happened 50 years ago when Kikyou and InuYasha disappeared, and Ryuen returned with a black curse that ended his life soon afterwards and continued to plague his line. Those who knew, the lords, have kept their silence. The only thing certain was the loss of the Imperial chain and the divine wrath that followed it.

Now, the divine treasure and its cursed companion have appeared. Lady Higurashi was said to have brought them at the point of near death. People shook their heads against these omens that seemed to spell doom. Prayers were offered in an almost frenzy. The offerings were heavy and the songs sung so beautifully as never before. All were done in the hope that it would reach the heavens and the earth in its mighty splendor and move the gods and spirits to pity. It was because memory was long, yet fear was even longer.

* * *

Blue eyes met with golden ones. One belonging to lined face, the other from a smooth and unmarked one. A sudden tension hung in the air. The many people milling about waited in bated breath yet hid under a veneer of indifference. The sudden stillness was brought by the arrival of Lady Higurashi. It had been a shock. Her injuries and the presence of the lost Imperial regalia had fueled rumors and intense speculation. Whether a good omen or not, it is agreed within the Imperial government to be a catalyst for change. All who were linked intimately with the lady, true or not, were now being scrutinized intensely. And now, the two men, whose futures were profoundly connected to Lady Higurashi, met.

"Lord Shigeru," Sesshoumaru murmured in a greeting. He was well aware of the situation as his features took a mask-like quality. He made no motions of obeisance. His form was as straight as a mighty tree against the storm. There were too many consequences. One single move, an indiscreet moment, had a capability of opening a veritable hornet's nest. It has been to such an extent that even he cannot confer with any of his fellow ministers without inciting unease. Such fevered intensity had trapped him into a standstill, just as it had trapped the father of the injured girl.

"Lord Sesshoumaru," the man responded, inclining his head in deference to Sesshoumaru's position.

It was gesture, Sesshoumaru returned. His head dipped, not a millimeter nor than a second more or less than the Minister of the Right's gesture. He may have a higher position, but the extent of his response showed his acknowledgement of the man's seniority.

"I hope your daughter is recovering," he said. He knew he was taking a risk, a calculated one, but still a risk. Mentioning Lady Kagome, though obliquely, created a shift in the finely wrought balance. But he was hoping that his perceived ignorance of her state would help cool the explosive climate.

"She is," Shigeru affirmed. "Thank you for your con…"

"Ah! Lord Shigeru," a voice rang. It was a jarring note to the thick atmosphere that pervaded. The two men turn towards the source and just as subtly, the eavesdroppers. It was Lady Kagura whose features were painted in the casual open lines of mild relief as she walked towards them.

"Just the person I was looking for," she continued before she executed a deep bow of respect. It was a fitting gesture to the most senior of all the ministers as well as the third most powerful man in the empire.

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed at the sight of her. He had always been wary of the Northern Lady, but her actions just previously gave her the benefit of the doubt. He could still remember how her voice ripped through the deafening silence, demanding that a healer be brought for the injured Lady Kagome.

Her gaze flickered to him and she bowed. He replied with a cool dismissiveness that was ignored. The two aristocrats have maintained this distant relationship ever since the Lady had inherited her position from her father.

"I would like to express the Northern land's wish for your daughter's continued recovery," Lady Kagura spoke as she turned her attention back to the Minister of the Right. Her words were flamboyantly formal. Lady Kagura had never mastered the subtle art of politics. Her movements, her words, her very form reminded all of a woman floundering in her too tight skin of pretense. Blunt, straight as an arrow, 50 years could not mold her to the masterful politician that her father was.

"I thank you, Lady Kagura," Lord Shigeru replied with warm eyes. "I especially would like to thank you for your timely assistance."

"You don't need to," she laughed. It was high-pitched, strange in the face of her usual husky tones. Crimson lips pulled into a wide open smile as faint lines marred the candid expression. "I just did what must be done," she continued. The fan snapped open and close with a flick of a wrist. "After the shock of her appearing so soon," her voice dropped slightly.

Silence. The word rang ominously against the multitude that now unabashedly waited with bated breath.

"And so battered," she finished, seemingly unaware of the discomfort she caused. It was a glaring reminder of the situation the empire had been spiraling in. It was a reminder that nobody wanted to hear, but it was typical of Lady Kagura to bring out reality with nary a care.

Fugitive glances were passed as the hall was suddenly alive with a hive of artificial boisterousness. The movements, the voices swung in an unnatural high as all were now intent in ignoring the harsh inevitable. Slowly, the hall seemingly cleared.

"But there is some good that came this situation," Kagura continued. She threw a bright smile at the two men, the force of her warm gaze lay on the human lord. "Don't you think so, my lord Shigeru?"

"In what way?"

"Why," she laughingly said. "We have little to do as of now. Lady Kagome will recover quicker with all our attention fully embroiled in her comfort and health."

She smiled as her blood red orbs flickered to Sesshoumaru. A fang peeked from the curve of her lips. "What say you Lord Sesshoumaru?"

He stiffened. The insinuation flared with such brilliance. Her previous statements may have driven out those who were intently listening, but it was foolish to expect that all was well.

"Perhaps," he replied, his features carved from ice. "But it is not our place to coddle her."

His words were a warning, a subtle hint that she should take care. An insinuation of any of the two end moves would have severe repercussions. Much less now when preparations were still sorely lacking.

He wasn't certain if she caught his meaning. She had continued on her carefree bantering with Lord Shigeru. Their words echoed merrily. It was blithe in the mock irritation that passed back and forth between the two.

"You think I don't understand, don't you?" she had asked in a parody of a noblewoman's irritation. Her brows were arched in an exaggerated display as she playfully snapped at Lord Shigeru's arm with her fan.

A wider smile greeted her antics, causing her to exclaim, "How typical of you fathers!" It was followed by a theatrical sign of exasperation as she threw her hands up in the air.

Their act caught on, much to Sesshoumaru's irritation. He had a niggling feeling that for once Lady Kagura was living up to her father's reputation. The whole meeting and exchange was contrived with layers upon layers of purpose, all different from one another. It was a surreal experience as she watched her wave the Minister of the Right away with broad sweeping gestures.

"Go!" she shooed the still smirking lord. "Go back to whatever you're doing, and leave us unattached, childless and ignorant people still blissfully unaware!" she cried out with gleeful triumph.

He watched them. To him, it felt as if he was watching a kabuki play, masking the subtleties of noh in its coarse façade.

His temples pounded. His vision hazed. The heat, the heaviness had taken its toll.

_'No more,' _he told himself. Only his iron control prevented from outright leaving until Lord Shigeru took his leave, but it was shattered upon the man's retreat. He swiftly turned away. Intent on leaving the watchful gazes, the annoying scent that reminded him of Naraku and betrayal.

A hand on his sleeve stopped his retreat. It was insistent, almost desperate in its sharp tugs. He turned frowning. Kagura's face greeted him. Her blood red orbs huge in her face. The mask has cracked like an actor who stumbled upon his lines and has lost all his rhythm.

"There is little to do my lord," she began rather hurriedly. "Perhaps a game of go to while away then?"

"Why so?" he murmured back, a perverse part of him wanting to be difficult.

She straightened. Her head was thrown back as she laughed out loud. It echoed across the hall, bringing all heads turning towards them.

"Why because you're the best," she replied. "And MY game is in need of polishing."

Anger bubbled within him. He hated being manipulated. He was trapped. She had planned it well. Their confrontation was amidst the hoards of observers. Even though their families have been in a silent feud for 50 years; to maintain the delicate balance, all had remained unsaid. In front of all he could do nothing but maintain the polite veneer. He could not ignore her request after such blatant insinuations of the lack of work.

His lips thinned.

"Lead the way lady," he murmured. "Lead the way."

Their eyes met. A steady stare. A battle for just a second with neither side giving in. A short flicker that felt like eternity.

* * *

She was a fool. She had manipulated Sesshoumaru into meeting with her under a pretense of a game of go. Had done it successfully much to the youkai lord's anger, and now that he was in front of her, she found herself at loss for words.

She hated it. Kagura found that there was nothing ever simple in her life. She just wanted peace. She wanted to tell him point blank what she felt, what she wanted. She wanted to tell him straight, watch that normally impassive face crumble in shock against her boldness, her righteousness. But it was impossible. To speak plainly was to court death, to watch all her hopes and dreams turn to ash.

She peered at her unwilling companion beneath her sooty lashes. Lord Sesshoumaru had recovered admirably from his defeat. His features had returned to the icy remoteness that gave nothing away. He was a master politician. And she wondered underneath her feeble attempts of small talk, of her discussion on the strategies within go, what madness had she succumbed to in her daring attempt to help mold the fate of the empire into what she deemed was right.

_'Is it because of guilt?' _a part of her whispered.

The smooth wood faced her innocently. Intersecting lines of black marred its surface. Her lips thinned. She could almost see her father in front her, the way he slowly donned his armor in a kind of ritualistic madness. His hands loving caressed the interlocking plates of his armor. The slow and jerking movements he partook as he tugged in every strap. She had remembered offering to help him in place of her dead mother. She could still see the remote sneer that touched his features before he asked her of her loyalty. He had raised the question 'if she would follow him to the end of the earth'. She could still remember her want, her wish, her naïve admiration for the man that raised her. She was sitting at the silken rugs mats with her head bowed when she had said yes and prostrated herself.

_'Your belief?'_

She could feel the cool stone in the palm of her hand. Its smooth surface was mocking in its perfection. Her skin tingled. She could almost feel the slight warm weight of the young Lady Higurashi. Her own voice rang into her ears as she called for a healer, as she asked, nay, demanded the other lords' sanity for doing nothing except to watch.

_'You redemption?'_

Her eyes fluttered close. She heard the tick of the pebble against the wood. The chirping of the summer crickets buzzed in a heady cacophony. It was as if she was back 50 years ago, watching as her sister's mirror gleamed in front of her. Watching as her father fought and dies. Cursing herself. Crying. She was such as fool to have blindly followed her father, knowing yet never knowing that she would help him to his doom.

_'Or is it everything?'_

The silk stuck to her skin. It was heavy, stifling in the summer's heat. It was a hated constant reminder of the full weight of her responsibility. Fifty years ago, the raw girl had felt the substantial load as she was ceremoniously wrapped in silk, primped and polished to something she was not. All her illusions had shattered that day. She was the one who had taken her own head and laid it on a silver platter. It was the platter of lost innocence.

Her eyes opened. The board lay in a pattern of intersecting lines and black and white stones. She saw the subtle form of two interlocking diamonds. Black. White.

_'Ko. Eternity.'_

Her hands tightened against the smooth ripple of the stone.

_'Your move…'_

* * *

The steady hum of silence, Sesshoumaru stared in contemplation at the series of black and white pieces. It was a sloppy. Kagura had never been good in the game of go. All of her moves had always been quick and impulsive.

It has been said that the go is a window to a person's mind. Sesshoumaru firmly believed in it. Every move made, the pattern laid out as well as the territories won and lost revealed who your opponent is.

Looking now at their game, he could see Kagura's state of distraction. It was impossible to hide it, just as it was impossible to hide the desperate game she was playing. She had always been impulsive, passionate and fierce. Independent with gusts of brilliance which inevitably petered out. She saw little use for strategy. It was only through necessity that she begun to learn the game. In the end, she did, but amateurishly. She weaved in and out in too stiff fingers.

Her lack of finesse usually worked to his advantage. Just as now it did even against her impressive performance awhile ago. He had been caught by surprise, and if he was honest with himself, he knew his lack of sharpness was due to Lady Higurashi. Their situation was fraught with tension already, but it was another level with her appearing severely wounded and holding the lost imperial regalia when everyone knew the lady was supposedly undergoing a test to determine her worthiness as High Priestess of Ise.

Kagura had moved like a master, but she now had faltered back to a 30 kyu player. It was something he was going to ruthlessly exploit. In the battlefield or in the table, he never showed an ounce of mercy. Much less now that he suffered the humiliation of being bested by a mere brat who will never have his respect or his trust.

Go was always about moderation. It was a subtle strategy. Capture territory too aggressively, you are bound to loose, just as when you hesitate too many a time.

In a way, he had an inkling as to what Kagura would like to talk about. Only a feeble blind old man would not know. But he refused to place the first piece down. He was no fool. She was not to be trusted. He still did not know where she stood. The wind youkai had been tight-lipped about the whole situation. So he waited. At one point she would have to speak.

He placed his stone.

She answered.

"Of all the rules of go," Kagura spoke. "One that I never liked was Ko."

Sesshomaru raised a brow. He stared at her in a cold almost dismissive curiosity.

"I think it's pointless," she murmured, as a slanted look grazed her features.

His gaze flickered towards her before returning to the board.

A click of a stone. A move made.

"Shouldn't you be concentrating on your game?" Sesshoumaru murmured.

"Oh! But I am!" she exclaimed.

A steady golden gaze bore into her.

She answered with a half smile playing on her lips.

Vacantly.

The musky smell of flowers baked against the sun's heat wafted across the room. It was a heady aroma, dizzying in its intensity.

Kagura leaned down. Her hand reached out to a pattern in the board. It was sudden, a jarring note in the stillness.

"See," she spoke as her finger pointed at a piece. "Once a move has been made and the territory gained, the opponent cannot gain it back even if that same territory is within grasp. You have to make a different move and wait a turn before you act."

Blood red eyes peered past sooty lashes. For a second, she captured his gaze with her own.

"It is what makes the game worth its while," Sesshoumaru murmured, locked into the stare.

Both of them refuse to give. Their expressions were unreadable, and their eyes, probing.

"It is the natural order of things," he continued. His features were porcelain as his voice dropped upon many layers of meaning.

Kagura lowered her gaze as she hauled herself up. The beads in her hair clinked together. Her chin raised a notch. A lock of hair fell, shadowing half her face.

"You mean real," she replied. "That it would be a waste of resources to pool you energies on a small piece of the board that your enemy can easily claim."

Her hands ran through the sides of the board.

"It is unwise to be caught in an eternal struggle that would bring you nothing," she continued, holding his stare. "Best we ignore it for now," she snorted derisively.

He said nothing. He did nothing but to seemingly return to his absent contemplation of the game as he truly watched Kagura at the corner of his eye.

Her body was a study of chained motion. The steady tap of the fan against flesh. Her wrist moved up and down bringing the beat to its didactic tune. Red lips were pursed. Sesshoumaru placed his piece.

The fan slapped into her fan. It lay steady against flesh. The sound echoed, then was silent.

"What I truly hate about ko," kagura spoke staring sharply at the newly placed piece. "Is that whatever happens, you will always return to that struggle."

A sigh. Her hands moved carelessly, almost the tossing her stone to its position.

Her eyes flickered towards him. "It's an unwanted unspoken promise," she whispered.

Their gazes caught and held. They were heavy, tinged with so much meaning. Words flashed between them, thoughts, _'The hatred between humans and youkai.'_

"Don't you think so?" she baited.

_'Shimmering...'_

"Aa."

_'...ever since the beginning."_

She smiled. "Is that all?"

_'What will you do?'_ her eyes seemed to whisper.

His were stony in reply unlike soft malleable gold. Sesshoumaru's hands reached for his bowl, taking one of the stones. It rang at the board with a finality of an answer.

"How do you know when?" she riposted. Her hands swept pass the laid pieces.

_'What will you choose?'_ it rang between them.

The wind blew.

_'Could you?'_

It teased the loose strands of hair around her face, creating inky ripples.

_'Should you?'_

He was silent.

_'Can you?'_

Seconds ticked by.

Kagura's hands suddenly plunged into her bowl. The stones rattle against each other, before she brought forth her hand that was fisted tightly, too tightly.

"If our stones have mixed," she began with a voice tinged with desperation. She was at a lost against his immovability. "This piece that I have grasped in my hand has truly lost all color. Is it black? White?"

Her eyes burned.

He remained seated like Buddha in his unreachable nirvana.

"An enemy or a friend? Will it aid me or you..."

Her form quivered in agitation. Her fist shook.

"Held as it is," Sesshoumaru spoke for her. "It is protected and concealed, hovering in the brink...at the realm of possibility."

Kagura's brows furrowed. Her lips moved, _'What of you?'_ No sound emerged.

"You have not answered me with a move," was his reply. The tone was cold, chiding even.

She stiffened at his words. Her fingers opened to reveal her piece as she resolutely placed it away from the ko pattern.

"No matter how real or how true it is, it should be IGNORED!" Her voice came out almost to a shout. Her claws dug into her thighs, punctured the silk down to flesh.

_'You have to do it,'_ her eyes flashed, demanded.

His eyes glittered in warning.

"Why?" he asked stopping the steamroll of her determination.

_'Can you be trusted?' _his masked slipped to slap her with the question.

White petals followed the wind as it blew, showering the woven mats in a sea of white.

"Because..." she replied, stunned.

It was a false dream of snow in the heat of the sun.

"Is it because any color will do for you?" he mocked.

_'Traitor! Do not tell me what to do.'_

"White is death," he intoned, every word was a condemnation. "Black is nothingness."

_'You have no right to know...'_

"Death and nothingness are the same."

_'...to say anything.'_

She flinched. Her arm jerked. The sleeve of her dress caught the wooden board. It overturned, scattering the stone all over the mat. They laid innocently in a pattern of black and white.

Her bangs shadowed her eyes.

"I apologize for my carelessness," she whispered. A pause. "But if you ask me, if I were brave, I will choose the darkness. Its subtlety is infinitely better than the garishness of white that hides the flaws. Darkness has led us to beauty." A twist of her lips heavy with self-mockery. "But I am young, so I can only choose the light."

She rose and bowed before she left. Her footsteps echoing against Sesshoumaru's implacability.

The snow-white petals lay scattered upon her wake, side by side with the stones of go. It was like the frozen ponds of winter flecked with white. But look closely, think clearly, and it was nothing more than a dream. Lies. Lies. Lies. A mirage in the stifling summer.

* * *

Clip. Click.

Went the pair of scissors.

Snip. Snap.

It gave off as stems large and small fell under its strength and the hand that wielded it. The bonsai tree under its ministrations slowly began to form its shape. The trunk lost its branches giving way to a twisting willowy smoothness that reached dizzying heights before it gave way to the diverging leaves.

Click. Clack. Snap…

The blades hung in the air, frozen. It gleamed, reflecting the mismatched eyes of its owner, the Emperor. His eyes narrowed as they slanted to the side, flashing gold and silver. Only a waving gossamer curtain greeted him. Yet a smile touched his lips as he returned to his pruning.

"What news?" he suddenly spoke. His voice was soft.

A woman stepped past the flowing white cloth, her footsteps silent. She moved swiftly, a graceful gazelle. She bowed fluidly, prostrate, in one clean motion. Her legs lay folded underneath her body, her spine was curved, and her head hung down as hands braced her torso from the floor.

"My Imperial Lord," she began in a gentle murmur. It was pitched low, yet was clear enough to be heard. "Most of the lords are preparing for either a war or a famine. All of the positions have remained the same though we could safely say the alliances have strengthened."

"Most?"

"All of the members of the council of Izumo have remained decidedly neutral," she added against the steady clicks of the scissors.

A raised brow. "Oh?" the Emperor remarked in a voice tinged with disbelief.

"Nothing is certain since the council members have been extremely careful," she interjected swiftly. Her form did not changed as did the pitch of her voice. "Though preparations of the more vocal minor lords have increased exponentially."

"As expected," he replied. A frown touched the Emperor's features as the sounds of the scrapping blades stopped. His eyes hovered to his distorted reflection at the steel edge. "Anything else, Sango?"

There was almost a pregnant pause.

"There was something unusual," she began, for once breaking her position and peering at the Emperor's purple clad back. "Lady Kagura invited Lord Sesshoumaru for a discussion," she continued as he watched his posture stiffen. "He agreed."

A sharp rap. Steel met wood as Emperor Amaterasu brought down the tool he held.

"But they only talked about go, Imperial majesty," she quickly interjected in a rush to appease him.

"Of course," he murmured distantly. He whirled to face her. His features were calm, languid even in a marked contrast to his earlier outburst. A gentle smile creased his features at the sight of her.

"Rise, Sango. That's a very uncomfortable position."

A brief hesitation and she obeyed his command.

"Should we look into it more?" a voice rang throughout the room. It was a familiar one.

Sango turned, the tail of her back hair snapping against the force of her movement.

"Miroku! Show some respect!" she exclaimed, scandalized, to the newcomer dressed in the purple robes of a monk.

A rakish smile was returned as the young monk bowed in reverence. "Your Imperial Highness," he murmured, earning a fond smile from its recipient. He straightened, before he gallantly took Sango's hand and placed a kiss. "My dear Sango," he whispered. His breath gently caressed her skin.

She reddened as she snatched her hand back in anger. Her jaw clenched. She looked away, fuming, as Miroku's smile widened. As suddenly as he came, his persona dropped to a more serious demeanor.

"I doubt they were simply talking about go and its rules during ko," he ventured. "Given Sesshoumaru's enmity due to the Northern clan's betrayal years ago, it would have taken much to get him to agree to a private conversation." His dark eyes were intent as he watched his liege lord stare absently at the bare room. Sango caught on the gravity as her form lost its fuming edge to be replaced by that of concern. Her brows furrowed as the two watched the Emperor's eyes linger at the room's only furnishing, the two bonsais that stood on the opposite corners of the smooth dark-grained table.

Seconds ticked by.

"We shall leave it be," Emperor Amaterasu at last spoke.

"Is it wise?" Miroku questioned while Sango hissed at him in outrage in his seeming impertinence.

The Emperor smiled. His hand reached out to gently touch a leaf in a fond caress.

"Miroku, the Fukinagashi and the Bunjin style are the most beautiful forms of bonsai because they are the most unconventional. They recreate nature at its finest," he remarked absently. His hand dropped. "It is the idea of our own powerlessness."

Miroku's lips curved upward. "I stand corrected, my Imperial lord," he murmured as he bowed in a gesture that was reminiscent of a man acknowledging another as his superior after defeat.

The clashing gold and silver eyes stared at the bowed form fondly. Emperor Amaterasu VII was used to Miroku's challenges. It was a marked contrast to Sango's fiercely loyal obedience as well as the other Hayato leaders' close-mouthed deference, and he loved it. It was a refreshing change. He was deeply fond of Sango, but he greatly appreciated the sharp mind that Miroku brought to their reports. Perhaps it may be because the said monk was the one to succeed Mushin as the Abbot of the sect of Tendai, and therefore a seat in the ruling council. Or perhaps it was because Miroku was marked for life due to his grandfather Ryuen. But it did not matter to Amaterasu, Miroku's mind was something he relished and needed, especially with his position as one of the leaders of Hayato. The intelligence they gathered was invaluable, but so much more was the young monk's interpretations which have been never proven wrong.

His eyes it snapped to the pair in front of him. "Continue as normal," the Emperor ordered. He noted the slight furrow of Sango's brow as she bowed in acquiescence. His eyes softened. "Sango," he ventured, catching her doe like eyes. "Do you understand?"

She shook her head, fully knowing what he meant.

"The trees," he began, his voice distant, and gaze piercing. "However mighty, must bend to the wind. The forest, no matter how much its stifles, a seed will one day grow and piece its way out of the forest's contrived darkness."

The two men watched as Sango's face lightened with understand, before she bowed and left. Against her retreating form that slowly disappeared from sight, Emperor Amaterasu observed, "There are so few like her in this world, those without guile."

"Aa," Miroku agreed, his violet orbs soft with affection.

A slanted gaze of like the sun against the gleaming sword.

"How I envy you."

Miroku laughed. It was short, an abrupt burst. His voice scratched the warmth in its bitterness.

"Don't say that," he spoke as his left hand crept to his right, gloved and wrapped with prayer beads.

The otherworldly orbs of the Emperor noted the gesture. It was laden with meaning

"To us with so long lives," he began. "Yours are envied because you have a chance to become like the sakura." His hands rose and met, twisting as they burrowed in the huge silken sleeves. "To rise at the pinnacle and fade away instantly, before your height disintegrates."

Dark eyes stared at the covered hand. The fingers clenched, before it fell limp in the scrutiny. The beads clinked. The two men faced each other.

"But a too short life," Miroku riposted. His gaze was probing. "Does not give the sakura a chance to bloom."

"Perhaps."

The leaves rustled.

Softer, "Perhaps."

* * *

"My Lady Kaede," a voice whispered, cutting across the strains of music that seemed to thrum with the heat and the wind. It was addressed to a woman who sat amidst the silk carpets and cushions playing the koto. Her hands weaved through and fro the strings as the frame that with every pluck and strum.

The music never stopped and the woman who sat playing seemed content to glance at the acolyte who called her. Her dark slanted eyes were imperious as she gazed at the nearly prostrate man.

"I have told the masters of your summons," the acolyte continued, his voice hushed in humbled reverence.

She said nothing. Instead, she returned her attention to playing. Her eyes closed languidly and her aura seemed to draw back within her. It was a sign of dismissal, one that people have learned long ago. She was the High Priestess of Atsuta and one of the members of the council of Izumo. She was ranked the highest besides Lady Kagura of the Northern lands in the lesser lords of the council. Kaede bowed to no one, except to the Emperor and in a fashion, to Lord Shigeru who held power over her in his rule over the Eastern lands and with it, the lands of the sect. Even Lord Sesshoumaru who was Minister of the Left and royal could only hold power over her in name.

Men have sung her praises, of her power, her beauty, her silence and her sorrow. But to Kaede, she is first and foremost a priestess, subject to no one's will but theirs. It has made her both a friend and a fiend, a masterful politician whose ambitions lie in fulfilling the whims of the gods and nothing else,

The man rose and shuffled backward in obeisance. The curtains whoosh to a close, where she was once again isolated from the world, in the four corners of the room with its cool rough-hewn stones and luxurious silks. Outside, the desert wind howled and the sun blazed at its zenith.

She saw none of it, for she was far away in her music with its glides, leaps, and distant thrumming. It carried her past the scorching heat to the cool plains, down towards the cities and into the huge white walled palace. Amidst the glittering walls with the milling guards and whispering courtiers, the Lord Higurashi stood alone watching and waiting. His presence loomed yet receded against the onrushing whispers and of intrigues that carefully eroded the strength of the rock to nothingness.

"My Royal Lord Higurashi," she spoke, her voice carried by the thrums of the koto.

He did not move nor respond to her call. To most it would have been a slight that would never be forgotten and would have caused many a conflict, but to them it was different. It was his right, for if the High Priestess of Atsuta was of great power, Lord Higurashi was of even greater power. He was a Royal Lord said to be descended from the gods. He was the Lord of the Eastern lands, the largest of all of the five provinces and the only predominantly human one. He held control over all the religious sects and was the Minister of Right, making him the third most powerful man in the empire. They understood it well as Kaede watched and waited, the knowledge keeping her still and even silent.

"My Lady Priestess," the lord replied after a seemingly infinite of seconds, his voice even colder and more distant than his form. His features seemingly carved from rock as he spoke. This was all he said, and he was silent.

His silence did not bother the High Priestess. She was used to him, even to the point of knowing him so well that it bordered to precognition. It was after all their way of life, to know an enemy, an ally, a superior and even a subordinate in order to survive. It was a necessity in their world of intrigues and shifting alliances. This gave all what she needed to know. There was tension in his form, the anger and annoyance, and the knowledge.

_'So he knows,'_ the thought crossed her mind.

Amusement sparkled on her eyes. He was trapped. Both of them knew it. Yet there was stubbornness in him, speaking volumes on how he would not give up without a fight.

"The Lady Kagome must return immediately to finish the test to become the High Priestess of Ise," she spoke, her voice pitched to reveal nothing but only fact. But it was fact laden with a hint of a warning and respect.

_'When she awakens, she must ride immediately,'_ those words thrummed between them.

"I see," he replied, in a gracious yet not so gracious capitulation. It was a promise yet not a promise, even against the fact that he had no choice for it was stated too plainly and too clearly. Pride kept him from revealing anything. His voice and his words were perfectly bland and controlled. It was as if there was a meaningless reminder and he replied in a meaningless habit. Yet, it was not it. There was more, for underneath that simple exchange was a possible condemnation to a possible death.

Silence passed between them in a battle of meanings. The tension was thick in the uncertainties trying to be made clear. Nothing moved nor stirred except the world that revolved around these two people. In a strangely perverse way, they were so similar yet so different. Each distant with a presence as cold as winter, watching and waiting like a hunter they were. Both were as sharp as blades yet as the High Priestess bent, swung and thrust like a rapier, the Lord of the Eastern Lands cut, towered and heaved like a mighty broadsword.

Both were now hunting. There was a dare and a challenge that shimmered between them.

Then at last, both withdrew with finality. The High Priestess returned to the desert and her cool room with its silks. A smile curved her lips in a mixture of relief and success, softening the sharpness of her oriental features. The koto continued to sing against her hands. Its music flowed in a seeming mockery to the solitary figure in the palace. In a way, it was. Lord Higurashi's features turned glacial, sharpening and matching the ice in his heart. There was a demand for silence from him, yet the music echoed, heedless to his commands.

**

* * *

**

**Notes:**

_Heian-kyo – _Historically, the Japanese capital in 795 was moved to modern-day Kyoto, which at that time was give the name "Heian-kyo," or city of peace and tranquility.

In the story, Heian-Kyo is the name of the capital city which is also the name given to the central lands, a small but richly fertile area that surrounds the capital city and is directly controlled by the Imperial house.

_Manjushri ­_– name of a bodhisattva who symbolized the perfection of wisdom and was often depicted riding a lion.

In the story, it is what the conclave is called when the council of Izumo and the Taika legislature meet as one body. The conclave is only convened when the Emperor is gravely ill until the swearing in of his successor, and also at extreme emergencies of a national scale.

_Izumo - _In Japanese mythology, every year the gods assemble in the holy temple at Izumo where they hold council in order to predestine the love affairs of people. It is here that it is decided who will love whom, and whose love will be requited.

In the story, the Council of Izumo is the primary advisory board of the Emperor. The Emperor is part of this council as well as the 4 lords of the 4 lands/kingdoms. Also part of this council is the youkai leader of the elite knights as well as two administrators, the minister of justice and minister of finance. The other members are the heads of the religious sects, for Shinto from the shrine of Atsuta and from Buddhism, the sect of Tendai.

_Lesser lords of the council – _The council is a three tiered structure with the Emperor as the first tier, the second tier is known as the Royal lords, which the Ministers of the left and right as well as the youkai head of Hayato. The third tier is known as the lesser lords where the remaining 6 members seat. They are the lowest ranked of all three tiers.

_Taika – _Historically, Taika (Taika Reform Edicts of Emperor Kotoku) was one of the two most important political innovations of the Shotoku regency. In essence, it founded the Japanese imperial system and government which were modeled after the Chinese government and social practices.

In the story, the legislative is called the Taika legislature and is composed of youkai lords and administrators (those who have passed the exam) that have shown merit in their office. These people are representatives of each the 5 kingdoms. Somewhat like the congress.

_Kabuki _– Traditional Japanese popular drama with singing and dancing performed in a highly stylized manner. It is described as the theatre of the townspeople and the farmers due to its coarseness and extravagance unlike noh which is more known for its fragile elegance and extreme subtlety. Kabuki was also known for its vivid social commentary on contemporary issues.

_Noh – _Traditional Japanese theater, known for its restraint where actors are not dramatis personae but storytellers. Metaphor and allusion are more important in noh, not the plot. This was a play typically appreciated by the upper class, especially the samurai, and was used as a ceremonial drama during auspicious occasions. One of the more distinctive traits of noh is the masks worn by the main actor and sometimes his companion.

_Go _– highly sophisticated board game introduced to Japan from China in the 8th century. It was popular with the aristocrats of both sexes. It was played with smooth black and white stones on a board with 361 intersections. Once a stone has been placed, it cannot be moved. Stones encircled by the enemy are usually forfeited.

_Ko - _means eternity in Japanese. This is when the moves which produce the same board position are prohibited. Ko stones can only be captured then when the player must play in another part of the board, producing another board position. By the next turn, the Ko stone can be captured.

_30 Kyu - _In the amateur Go world, 30 kyu is usually the lowest rank. The smaller the kyu, the stronger the player. Above 1 kyu comes 1 dan. As the dan number increases, the player's level gets stronger.

_Darkness and Light _– Kagura's statement about light and darkness is a reflection of the Japanese reverence for darkness. As the novelist Tanizaki Junichirou wrote about the Japanese's regard for darkness is linked with their affinity for the art that is subdued, quiet, reticent and suggestive.

_Hayato _– in Japanese mythology, Hoderi (son of Ninigi) was said to be the ancestor of the Hayato tribe in Kagoshima. Historically, Hayato clansmen became guards of the Palace of the Emperor.

In the story, it is the name of the Emperor's Intelligence bureaucracy: Censorate and Ministry of War. This is also the organization the elite knights are part of. Leaders of the Hayato are 2 pairs: a human pair and a youkai pair. The youkai pair are the more visible representatives, the knight holding a seat in the council of Izumo. They are also in charge of the Ministry of war. The human pair are the censorate part or the intelligence bureaucracy. They are in charge of finding out what is going on in the empire, the intrigues and the loyalties of the different lords and administrations as well as any abuse of power done, for example corruption.

_Tendai – _In Heian times, this Buddhist sect was virtually the state religion. Many emperors relied on the abbots of Mt. Hiei for succor and counsel. It was based on the teachings of the lotus sutra. Austere to an extreme, the monks took 12 years of seclusion before taking their final vows. In time, it became as esoteric and extravagant in ritual as the other sect Shingon.

_Fukinagashi – _windswept style of bonsai. This style simulates the effect of sustained exposure to strong winds. In this design, each of the branches appears to be "swept" to one side, as if being blown by a strong wind or having large portions of foliage and branches stripped by environmental conditions. These trees are modeled on trees usually found in coastal areas, where strong environmental forces have shaped and sculpted them for years.

_Bunjin _– called literati style of bonsai. This style is the most unconventional of them all. Bunjin often have long thin trunks which curve back around toward the front at the top, displaying the tree's foliage in a cascading form. This style technically "breaks the rules" in a number of ways, but also imitate trees in nature that have been forced to contort themselves to survive.

_Sakura – _cherry blossoms. The Emperor's statement about sakura reflects the samurai's ideal of becoming like a sakura blossom which blooms for such a short while before the flowers disappear. This ideal states that a samurai should strive to reach for perfection and while he is at the height of his skills, to 'disappear' before his skills lessens or fade to age.

_Koto _– a slender stringed instrument resembling a zither; there were several types, including the wagon and the kin.

**

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Author's notes:**

Thank you to all who reviewed. I was so happy that this story was warmly received. But I have to say, the real highlight is when an author whose story you greatly respects leaves a review. I'm sure most of you have read Chaos-and-Serenity's story, Torment of Rapture. If any of you haven't, do try to read it. It's a wonderfully written piece of work. A little bit grim and dark, but beautifully done nonetheless. Again, thank you so much all of you. I hope you all like this chapter. Please drop a line. Say what you like, don't like, what needs improvement, etc. It's good to hear your comments. 'Til next time


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